


Exorcism

by ReDArrowGirl57



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Developing Relationship, Exorcisms, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Slash, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReDArrowGirl57/pseuds/ReDArrowGirl57
Summary: Exorcising demons is a dangerous thing, especially for demons. Crowley has dealt with his fair share of exorcisms throughout the years, but despite being enemies Aziraphale is always there to help him get through. (changed the summary and tags to make this multi chapter)I wanted Aziraphale to save Crowley for a change. Got the idea from a SVTFOE episode.





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote some of this on my phone at a party I didn't want to be at so please be kind to any spelling or grammar mistakes. I just had to write these two, they are just too pure. (this is before the Arrangement or show)

**Spain 1478-heart of the Spanish Inquisition**

Crowley was not a fan of the Spanish Inquisition. They were unsettling even for his standards, and very unexpected. The boys down stairs usually gave Crowley a heads up if something like this was going to happen, but instead they stayed quiet. The Inquisition was not very found of demons, hunting them down and even killing a few from what Crowley heard. For that reason Crowley had stayed away from Europe for last few hundred years. That and the Black Death still haunted him. Too much death, even for a demon.

Therefore when Crowley was asked to go to Spain to do some tempting, even aid the Inquisition a little bit, Crowley was not overly pleased. He wanted to refuse, even tried to snake his way out of it, but the demons had an eye on him. They knew he wasn't as eager and proud of The Plague as they were. He had hardly helped with the spread it, so Crowley knew he had no choice but to aid the killings going on in Spain. He left the simple life he was enjoying in what would one day be known as Latin America and went to Spain.

That was a week ago. Crowley wasn't sure what happened. Everything was a bit of a blur. He remembered people yelling, a fire, and then it was just a black. All he knew was the fact that his nose itched. It was a strange feeling for a demon, for their nose to itch. It had never happened to Crowley before. He went to scratch his itchy nose only to find her couldn't. Crowley opened his eyes hearing loud gasps.   

Crowley was laying on his back, in a church from the look of the ceiling. He was chained to a old wooden table by his ankle and wrists. He groaned loudly seeing people in hoods and ridiculous outfits surrounding him. Most of them were holding crosses and the bible. 

Great, he thought to himself. Another attempt at an exorcism. When were people going to learn that exorcisms were nearly impossible? Many, many, years ago the demons made sure there were little to no accurate instructions on how to perform an exorcism on Earth. Most of what was written would actually summon more demons or give them a little power boost. A fun little prank some demon pulled back near the beginning. 

"Foul demon!" the one at his head bellowed. Crowley yawned. "We will purge you from this holy ground."

"Sure about that?'" Crowley joked. He knew he wasn't in any danger. Why not have  a little fun? He snapped his fingers to make the cuffs holding him down disappear but they didn't. Crowley frowned. He snapped his fingers again, but the chains holding him stayed firmly in place. "Okay." He sat up the best he could, which was difficult with his arms stretched out to his side. He pulled on the chains seeing that they were inscribed with some ancient writing. Crowley nearly curse. These chains were old...from the first war in Heaven. Crowley thought of the fall. He felt fear.

"Begone demon!" the man yelled and the group began chanting. 

Crowley sucked in a sharp breath not sure what was going to happen. He understood vaguely what the group was chanting. He spotted some of the hooded men holding chalices of what Crowley guessed was holy water. "Hey, listen, how about we talk about this, okay? I'm not that bad of a guy." 

They did not stop chanting. They actually got louder. Crowley pulled on the chains. They were blessed, made in Heaven. There was no way he could get out of them. Yet, so far nothing had happened. Crowley waited, listening to the chanting, but nothing actually changed. The book they were reading from as they chanted must have been another fake. Crowley relaxed, letting a smile across his lips and nearly laughing. Of course these people weren't going to exorcise him. No one ever did these things corr-

Crowley felt something. Something off. An unnamed feeling deep in his core. An uncomfortable feeling deep in his chest. He felt warm, then hot, then burning. His whole being felt like it was on fire. He screamed out. The windows of the church shattered as storm clouds gathered. The perfectly sunny afternoon turned dark and stormy, lightning and harsh winds attacked the church. A few of the people wondered if they should stop chanting, but the leader urged them to keep going. They chanted loader. 

Crowley's eyes rolled into the back of his head. He opened his mouth, his screams turned into harsh hisses and guttural noises and then he spoke in tongues. It was a language Lucifer and his pals had taught him, before the fall. A secret language just used by them for fun, now an evil sounding speech used by demons and the all the monsters of the world. Crowley had long stopped using it, yet it came out of his mouth like a waterfall, setting the church on fire. He rose up from the wooden table. Levitating a few feet above it only held down by the chains at his wrists and ankles. Some of the hooded people fled. Others stayed still chanting as the church burned around them hoping to get rid of the demon and in some ways they had already done that; for Crowley was no longer in control, just demonic instinct and raw, feral, power.

 

**Somewhere in China**

Aziraphale was enjoying his visit to China. Their fine arts and culture. They had some of the most interesting books the angel had ever seen. He was reading one of those said books when he felt something off. It was a strange feeling. Aziraphale set down the book not sure what the feeling was. It was evil, demonic. 

"Crowley," Aziraphale said under his breath. 

Aziraphale miracled himself to Spain and the source of the darkness he was feeling. He gasped finding a few people in hoods surrounded the demon. They were chanting as the church they were in burned around them. The altar was on fire and a horrible storm unlike anything Aziraphale had seen in a long time raged outside. He spotted Crowley, eyes white, screeching out inhuman noises floating above the table. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale yelled running over to the demon. "Get back!" Aziraphale ordered. The hooded men finally fled leaving the two alone in the burning church, or at least what was left of it. 

"Crowley," Aziraphale said more softly unsure what was happening. He glanced around nervously. The chanting had stopped, yet Crowley was still making those noises and hovering in the air. The demon looked like he was in pain, having convulsions, eyes blank and mouth wide. "Crowley, please," Aziraphale reached out and placed a hand on Crowley. "I..," the angel had no idea what to do. Part of him was afraid to intervene, for many reasons. 

Throwing caution to the wind he wrapped his arms around the demon pulling him close to his chest. He felt Crowley wheezing; he felt the pain and years of suffering radiating off his body. Aziraphale pulled him in even tighter still unsure if he was helping or what to do. He just knew Crowley needed him. He felt it in his very being. 

"It's okay...I'm here," Aziraphale softly said holding onto Crowley, trying to force whatever was going on to stop. Crowley stopping making those strange monstrous sounds and instead just breathed heavily.. Time seemed to slow down, the fire raging around them seemed to calm. "Crowley, if you can hear me...I'm here. It's going to be alright. I'm here now. I'm here." 

The horrible thunder outside stopped. The clouds suddenly disappeared returning back to the nice, sunny afternoon. Aziraphale kept holding on and he felt Crowley calm. The fire stopped, going out just as quick as it started. Crowley's whole being slumped into Aziraphale, his eyes were now closed and his face was still as death.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale shook the demon slight a little panicked. Crowley's face scrunched up as though uncomfortable. "Oh thank goodness," Aziraphale sighed happily. He released the chains holding Crowley, wondering where the hooded men got such an angelic relic, and then miracled the two to a new, safer, place.

The angel laid Crowley down on the bed and paced. He paced for what felt like days, for it was days, until the demon woke up. Crowley stirred slightly, opening his yellow eyes to see Aziraphale hovering over him nervously. "Angel?" Crowley asked surprised about how raspy and weak his voice sounded.

"Oh there you are. I was afraid you weren't going to wake up. How are you feeling? A bit of tea?"

Crowley sat up looking around a little confused. "Where am I? What happened?"

"My place, and well you see you sort of almost got exorcised, my dear boy."

"I what!?" Crowley yelled. He sung his legs up over the side of the bed. "Oh that's right the damn Spanish Inquisition. I knew I hated that lot. Any of them die?" Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale was a little taken back by the question. "I don't think so." 

"Okay," was all Crowley said back and the angel wasn't sure if he sounded relieved or upset about it. "Anyways, thanks for the save. Perhaps I'll return the favor sometime."  

"Not sure if I like the idea of a demon owing me a favor," Aziraphale said honestly. It made Crowley chuckle and it brought a smile to the angel's face. Crowley started walking towards the door. Aziraphale wanted to say something, to tell him to stay and rest, but he couldn't get the words out. It didn't seem right, asking a demon to stay. It wasn't proper. Instead Aziraphale called out. 

"What happened back there, Crowley? That was unlike any exorcism I have ever seen."

Crowley said nothing, but a darkness seemed to fall over him. "It was nothing angel. Nothing at all." He said nothing else and left. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth to yell out, but he closed it again. At his core Crowley was a demon, the natural enemy of angles. Aziraphale still wasn't sure why he saved the demon. He should have let him be sent back to Hell. One less demon in the world. Yet, Aziraphale was happy Crowley was safe. It was a strange feeling, feeling relieved that a demon was okay. He was happy Crowley was safe, that he was till on Earth with him. Aziraphale didn't dwell on this feeling. It's not like it mattered. Not now, and probably not ever, thought Aziraphale. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events of the show. A book in the shop leads to a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote more! These two idiots are just too in love to stop.

**The BookShop: Four months following the apocalypses that never was.**

Crowley had no idea why he agreed to do this. He was currently lazily sitting on a chair half reading some random book he found. Aziraphale had asked him watch the bookshop for he was leaving London for a short time. He had planned a small trip to France for a few new books and crepes, he was mostly going for the crepes. Crowley was going to say no, but instead the words came out as yes the moment the angel gave him soft hopeful eyes.

The demon groaned hearing the door to the shop open. Aziraphale wasn't overly fond of selling his books so Crowley knew he could be a little nasty to the customer and shoo him away. 

The custom was a teenager, or maybe in his twenties. He wore prim and proper clothes. The boy spotted Crowley. "Hello, yes hello," the boy stumbled over his words. Crowley leaned against one of the shelves and crossed his arms watching the clearly nervous boy awkwardly squeak out what he was saying. "Mr. Fell, I was umm...I was wondering, well you see I have heard you had a certain book."

"What book?" Crowley asked, not because he was interested or wanted to help, but because of how uncomfortable and nervous the boy was. He was a demon after all, even if Hell was out for him. 

"Oh you see it's a book about…," the boy glanced away. Crowley smiled _. Please say porn, please say porn_ , Crowley hoped to himself. "It's about on how to exorcise a demon."

The smile left Crowley's face instantly. "What?" he asked his voice darker. 

"I need a book about exorcism, more importantly on how to send a demon back to Hell. I heard a rumor that you had one. A real one, I guess a lot are fake." he said which was true.

"Who told you that? Where did you hear this rumor?" Crowley asked back his voice raising slightly.

The boy took a step back and shrugged. "I don't know. I just heard it around, people talk, some bloke said some other bloke said you had one, look it's kinda important. Do you have one or not?" 

"Of course not!" Crowley boomed out. "Now get out!" He roared and the boy bolted, clearly sensing Crowley's anger and something off about him. Crowley growled as he sat down in a chair. He thought to himself, glaring at the door the boy had not totally closed as he ran out. Crowley got up and started to search the shelves. 

Aziraphale came back holding only one new book and a take out bag. He smiled brightly as he stepped into the book shop. "Crowley? Are you here? I had the most wonderful time in Paris. I brought you back some crepes. Crowley?" The angel wandered the bookshop looking for the demon. He found Crowley sitting at one of the desks, looking over a gray and green book. "Ah there you are. Everything is tip top I hope," Aziraphale asked but the demon did not answer back just kept staring into the book, his face blocked. "Crowley? I everything al…," he saw what book Crowley was looking at. "Right." The smile left Aziraphale's face.

The bookshop was quiet for a moment the two celestial beings saying nothing. "It's the real deal," Crowley said eventually. "Actual instructions for a proper exorcism, banishing spells and everything. It's very thorough." 

"Crowley I..," Aziraphale started.

"Why do you have it?" Crowley asked throwing down the book and standing up. "Do you have any idea what half of the things in that book could do to me? If I get sent back to Hell do you know what Lord Beelzebub will do to me for what we did?"

"I know, I got it a long time ago before...before we became friends." Aziraphale admitted feeling ashamed. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Oh thought you'd have a little back up in case you wanted to get rid of me is that it!?"

"Of course not Crowley, you know that. And besides it was a long time ago."

"Do I know that?" The demon shot back. Crowley shook his head clearly upset. He pushed passed Aziraphale heading towards the door of the shop not saying anything.

"Crowley wait, please," Aziraphale called after him. It was strange begging a demon asking him to stay. Yet, the idea of Crowly leaving, storming out and upset with him, hurt Aziraphale. Crowley luckily did stop, but did not turn to face the angel. "I'm sorry. I'll get rid of it, burn it or something." Aziraphale offered. "Please stay. I brought you crepes," the angel pointed at the take out bag he had brought with him. 

The demon lowered his head. "Alright, angel."

* * *

 

Three days later Crowley got a call at his flat. He picked it up with his usual demeanor. "Hello, Crowley?" Aziraphale's voice came from the other end.

"Who else would it be?" Crowley said back. 

"Right." Aziraphale sounded a little off, sort of anxious. "It seems the bookshop has been robbed."

Crowley didn't let Aziraphale saw anymore for he hung up the phone, got in the Bentley, and drove over to the shop and records speeds. He pulled half onto the curb just outside the shop the people on the streets cursing at him for poor parking. The demon raced inside seeing broken glass. "Aziraphale!?" He yelled.

The angel walked out from behind a shelf. He gave a smile when he saw the demon. "Are you hurt?" Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale shook his head. "No. I'm quite alright. I only left the shop for a few minutes to get a cup of cocoa next door and came back to this," he gestured and the broken glass and books thrown on the ground. The angle picked a few of them up from the floor with a look of sadness and gently placed them back on the shelves. 

"Did they take anything?" Crowley asked glanced around. 

"Well yes, they…," Aziraphale didn't look Crowley in the eyes. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times before saying. "They took the book."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "What book?" 

"You know," Aziraphale said and Crowley just stared at him confused. "The...the exorcism book," Aziraphale said and quickly turned and walked out of sight. Crowley chased after him.

"The exorcism book!? I thought you destroyed it!" Crowley ran in front of the angel glaring at him from under the dark glasses.

"I was going too, honest, but I couldn't. I can't destroy a book let alone burn it,"  Aziraphale told him shamefully. The angel always had a soft spot for books. They were one of his favorite things on all of Earth. He took care of each one he had. Crowley was mad, he understood why the angel didn't do it, but he was still mad. In all their years together Aziraphale had never damaged a book, never even creased an edge.

"I am terribly sorry," Aziraphale apologized. 

Crowley said nothing. He just suggested the two look for the people who had the book before they did something dangerous and said nothing more exiting the shop and getting back into his car. Aziraphale followed, sitting next to Crowley saying nothing as they drove off not sure where they were going. They both knew when the thieves used the book they would sense it, feeling it, so they drove around London waiting for something to happen. It was a horribly silent and tense two hour car ride. 

"Perhaps we should go back to the shop," Aziraphale eventually suggested. He was never good at reading what Crowley was feeling or thinking. Yet, the angel knew Crowley was upset. It upset Aziraphale.   

They returned to the bookshop a little after dark. Aziraphale got out of the car followed by the demon. "Perhaps they aren't going to use the book," the angel said optimistically.  

A moment later there was a clap of thunder despite their not being a cloud in the sky. The wind picked up and the ground seemed the shake. Both the angel and demon felt it a  power in the distance. Saying nothing else they got into the Bentley and they drove towards the source of the new, radiating, power. 

They came to a cemetery near a church just outside of London. With Crowley's driving it did not take long to get there, but the sky was now suddenly dark with clouds swirling above as though a tornado would touch down. Crowley and Aziraphale jumped over the outer fence and into the cemetery not sure what they were going to find. They both felt something evil, a darkness neither of them could place. Crowley was a little hesitant but charged forwards. That book could be dangerous in the wrong hands. 

"My word," Aziraphale said feeling sick and nearly covering his mouth in shock and horror.

It was a massacre. Crowley saw a woman chained to a grave, she face was covered in blood, her skin and clothes were torn, blood and organs pulled out of her. He spotted the teenager or twenty year old from the bookshop on the ground, blood coming from his wide, dead eyes, and his limbs twisted in unholy angles. There were three other boys, all dead with holes in the chests and viscera missing. 

"What happened?" Aziraphale questioned. He knelt down by one of the boy's bodies, spotting the green and gray book in his hand. 

"AZIRAPHALE!" Crowley's voice screamed out. The angel felt Crowley pushing him hard, knocking him to the ground. He saw the flash of something dark and then Crowley scream in pain. 

Aziraphale jumped back up unsure what was going on. Crowley was on the ground, clutching his shoulder. Black blood was oozing from it and the angel could tell he was a great deal of pain. He went to comfort Crowley, to check is wound but the angel was stopped by the voice.

"So this is that tree topper everyone down stairs is stalking about," The voice said. Aziraphale looked up to see a woman, dressed similar to the dead one chained to the grave standing in front of him. The woman looked unnatural, something was off about her eyes. She had blood on her clothes and some leaking from her eyes and ears. Aziraphale's eyes were drawn to the black jagged blade in her hand. A demonic weapon, forged in the fire of Hell no doubt. 

"Who...who are you?" Aziraphale asked still standing close to Crowley who had yet to get up. 

"Abaddon," the demon introduced themselves in a proud voice. "And you are Aziraphale, you're pretty famous downstairs. They say you're the angel that corrupted...or well uncorrupted Mister Crowley. They say you made him love humanity along with," she looked directly at the angel, "other things." She stepped closer, smiling. "It's a bit of an honor."

"Abaddon," Crowley growled out as a warning. 

"How are you here? I thought this was an exorcism," Aziraphale asked hoping to get the demon talking while he was thinking of a way out of this. Adaddon was known for being a very violent and bloody demon and Crowley was injured. 

She shrugged. "These idiototic boys had a problem with some prostitutes, thought they were possessed, got their hands on quite a book," she said eyeing it, hungrily. "Sadly, or gladly, their pronunciations were shit. A few missed spoken words here and extra syllable there and suddenly this little exorcism turned into summoning. It's only my luck that the traitor Crowley showed up. So many want to destroy you, I think once I bring you back to Hell there's going to be a riot for who gets the honors." 

Aziraphale took a step in front of Crowley. "You're not taking him." 

The other demon laughed. 

Crowley kept holding his arm, feeling weaker and weaker by the moment. He looked at the dagger in Abaddon's hand. He had seen the things she did to angels during the first war, the horrible monstrous things. "Aziraphale, go," Crowley said not realizing how weak his voice sounded. "Get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you," Aziraphale said strongly and once again the other demon laughed.  "Now please Adaddon, return to Hell."

"Or what?" She asked, but the angel didn't answer just held his ground. She smiled evilly and lunged at Aziraphale. He jumped out of the way of the blade taking a few steps back away from Crowley. Abaddon followed holding the dagger out. 

"Aziraphale! Get out of here! That knife will kill you!" Crowley tried to stand, but his knees gave in and he collapsed into the blood stained grass. Damn that demonic blade. It leaves a demonic wound, no matter how small, that poisoned the body slowly making the victim weaker and in horrible pain. To an angel it was much worse. Crowley had no doubt that one cut would kill the angel. He had to get Aziraphale away.

The angel and demon continued to fight. Abaddon kept attacking with the knife, but the angel dodged each time. It was clear that the body the demon was possessing had a broken leg and demon's movements were slower than they should be. 

Crowley tried to push himself up, but the pain had started. He gasped out, his wound screaming out in agony. It felt like his body was being repeatedly stabbed. He yelled out in pain, withering in the grass. He vaguely heard Aziraphale call out to him. 

Aziraphale tried to reach Crowley, hearing him yell out in pain but Abaddon blocked his path. "I didn't even know this worked on demons," she laughed holding up the knife. "Hope it doesn't destroy him before I can get him back to Hell. It would be too merciful of a punishment." 

"I will not let you hurt him." 

She laughed. "A little two late for that." She charged at him again and the two returned to fighting. The angel narrowly missing the edge of the knife.

Crowley lifted his head, his glasses falling off his face. He watched the blade slice a part of Aziraphale jacket. "No, run, please!" Crowley begged feeling darkness start to take his vision.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale yelled seeing Crowley collapse completely into the grass and stop moving. He once again tried to get to him, getting awfully close, but Abaddon was right there. 

"How do you really think this is going to end, angel?" She asked and Aziraphale realized he did not like a demon calling him angel if it wasn't Crowley. He spotted the book still in the dead kids hands. 

"With you back in Hell, demon," he said and lunged for the book. He ripped out of the dead boy's hands. Abaddon was a little taken back by Aziraphale suddenly jumping to the ground. She tried to attacked again with blade, but Aziraphale tore a page out of the book. He quickly pressed the ripped page of the book, with a perfectly drawn pentagram on it, into the demon's chest. Abddaon was in shock not sure what was happening since it was happening to fast, and Aziraphale said a few words quickly in an old dead language. 

Abaddon screamed the body she was using turning to ash. The ground shook slightly and the demon as gone. 

Aziraphale went over to Crowley, throwing the book into a puddle of mud and blood. He picked Crowley up into his arms. "Crowley? Crowley are you alright?" The angel shook the demon slightly until he saw those yellow eyes looking back at him. Crowley looked weak, his face covered in sweat and his skin more gray than usual. "Are you alright? Let me fix you up," Aziraphale reached for the wound but Crowley swatted it away weakley. 

"It's a demonic wound, you can't heal it. I just have to wait for it to pass," Crowley said grinding his teeth and grunting in pain.

"Well let me get you somewhere comfortable." Aziraphale said and brought the demon back to his flat. Crowley laid down on the bed next to some of his plants still holding his shoulder making pained noises. His breathing was labored and Aziraphale pulled up a chair waiting by Crowley's side until whatever the blade put into his system was gone. 

In the end it took ten hours before Crowley finally started to feel better and stronger. Aziraphale stayed by Crowley's side the whole time feeling horribly useless. Yet eventually Crowley sat up, grunting when he put any pressure on his cut arm. Crowley glanced at it seeing a white bandage around the wound. 

"You do this?" He asked the angel.

"Ah yes, took a few first aid classes over the years."

"Why?"

"Oh well, I thought it would be useful. Humans are rather fragile."

Crowley shook his head. "No, why did you bandage me up? I told you there was nothing you could do."

"I had to do something," Aziraphale admitted. 

The corners of Crowley's lips turned up. "You already fought Abaddon. I think that was enough." 

"I wouldn't call it much of a fight. I mostly duck and ran," Aziraphale let out a small laugh glad to see crowley was doing better. "Well, I should probably leave. Let you rest." Aziraphale stood up from the chair and started to leave.

"You can stay, if you'd like," Crowley offered, for the second time in their long life and for the first time he thought Aziraphale would stay. He saw a flash of emotion, a flash of hope in and angel's eyes, but Aziraphale shook his head.

"You need to rest. I'll leave you to it." Aziraphale and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Have at least one more chapter planned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale hear about a man hunting down demon's for the wings and get in over their heads. ( mind the warnings and tags)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: this chapter has torture and got real dark real fast. Be careful! 
> 
> Sorry about the delayed update. I was on vacation.

**The Bookshop one year and two months after the no longer end of the world**

They got the warning from Shadwell of all people **.** He came into the bookshop, having came back into the city after moving out to the country. He looked uncomfortable and tense an odd relationship with the angel and demon, not too sure what happened that day at the airbase and not wanting to think about it too hard. 

Aziraphale welcomed the witch finder offering him a cup of tea. The old man sat down, throwing in a quick complaint about his back. Crowley just rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. "What brings you by?" Aziraphale asked before the demon could make a rude remark. 

"I was in the area," he told them going into more detail than needed. Part of Crowley wished he went back to his flat instead of back to the bookshop with the angel after their lunch at a small local restaurant. Then he wouldn't have to listen to whatever nonsense this, now known fraud, had to say. 

"I've heard things," he continued. "There is this rather unrolling gentleman, you see, calls himself a hunter of some sorts." Shadwell said making Crowley roll his eyes for the fourth time. "Not the witch finder armey. We are professionals, we have a code. This man has no such thing." Aziraphale listened, feeling concerned. Crowley didn't listen and didn't care. "From what I hear, he's been going after demons and the like, supernatural forces."

"Right," Crowley said under his breath. He turned to leave. 

"He has a pair of wings," Shadwell called out stopping Crowley. "This old friend of mine, got drunk off his rocker the other night, told me his friend went over to this hunter person's home. Had a pair of wings on display, unlike anything he had ever seen. Said they were bigger than any normal bird. Large black wings, right in a display case, looks as though they had been cut off."

Aziraphale quickly looked over to Crowley with shocked and scared eyes. All demons had a pair of wings. Some had tried to remove them after the fall, but it was a very painful process, like cutting off one's own arm. Most demon's kept them hidden away, shame that they looked remotely like that of an angel. The idea of a human getting their hands on a demon's wings was slightly terrifying. Crowley seemed to grow a little pale. He doubted any demon would live through that. 

"You two need to watch your backs. From what my drunk friend said, that hunter is always itching to add to his collection so to speak," Shadwell warned. The witch finder drank the rest of his tea and promptly left feeling weird after the interaction. He still didn't know what to make of those two.

"Well that was interesting," Crowley shrugged it off. 

"Crowley, if what he said was true, you need to be careful. You could be in real danger," Aziraphale said sounding a little worried. Crowley just laughed, Shadwell was a con man, there was nothing to worry about. If the drunk man was even telling the truth the wings were probably fake. There was no way a human could get demon wings, Crowley would be fine. The demon once again dismissed the angel's worries and the left the bookshop with the excuse he had to water his plants. 

A week later Crowley found himself back in the bookshop, sitting in chair listening to Aziraphale talk about a play he was at the other day. Crowley listened and the angel enthusiastically told him what happened and how good all the actors and actresses had been. 

Crowley was actually disappointed when the bell of the shop rang to signal a customer had come in. Aziraphale dismissed himself, leaving Crowley in the back as the angel went to greet the customer. 

"May I help you?" Aziraphale rounded the corner into the main entrance way to find an unsavory looking character. He had many graphic tattoos, and had a vest with large hunting knives strapped into it. Aziraphale took a step back. "I...I think you have the wrong shop."

The man looked over Aziraphale, his eyes going up and down his body making him very uncomfortable. He went to tell the man to leave, but other gentleman spoke first. "You're...you're an angel."

Aziraphale gasped loudly, taking another step back until he hit a bookshelf. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." He stuttered out. "Now I would ask you to please leave my shop." The angel had no idea why he didn't miracle him away. Yet, he was in such a panic and was never one for quick thinking, he just stared at the clearly hostile man not sure what to do. 

"An angle wow, I came here for the demon, but..," the man said and Aziraphale's heart sunk deep in his chest. He remembers what Shadwell had said only a week before. A hunter taking a demon's wings. Crowley was in danger. He had to get Crowley away. Aziraphale went to yell out for Crowley to run, but the hunter continued, "I wonder what your wings look like."

The man pulled out one of his knives from his hunting jacket. It was jagged with strange markings on it. Aziraphale turned to yell out for Crowley but everything went suddenly black.

* * *

 

"Angel. Aziraphale. Wake up. Angel." a voice called out to him. He recognized the voice found comfort in the voice. It pulled him out of the darkness. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes seeing Crowley. His vision was blurry, which was strange for it had never been before. The angel blinked a few times trying to adjust to the dim light. He knew he was laying on the ground. He sat up his head feeling light, once again a new feeling for him. "Crowley?" The angle blinked once again finally making his vision clear. 

He saw Crowley was chained to a wall, his arms above his head and his feet just touching the ground. His sunglasses were broke and he blood mixing in at his hairline. "Crowley!" Aziraphale jumped but found he could not move much. He looked down seeing cuffed around his wrists. He was chained to the ground with tight iron, with ancient markings carved into them. Aziraphale closed his eyes trying to miracle them away. Nothing happened. 

"That won't work I've already tried. This place is covered in wards. The types used during the war," Crowley explained and Aziraphale glanced around the cell they were in seeing runes and other ancient symbols on the walls. Aziraphale remembered little about that first war. The war that cast Crowley and the others out. He didn't like to think about it, so he never did. 

"Where do the humans keep getting things things?" Aziraphale asked tugging on the chains. He was powerless with all the wards on the walls, unable to do 'proper magic' as Crowley liked to say. 

"Where are we Crowley? What is this?" Aziraphale asked a little afraid. The cell was rather small Aziraphale opposite of Crowley with one large steel door and little shelf and an even smaller window, barred, near the ceiling. 

"My guess? That hunter Shadwell mentioned." 

Aziraphale visibly paled. "How did this happen? I remember a man entering the bookshop then nothing."

"Best not to get into it," Crowley sounded a bit defeated.

"There has to be a way out,"  Aziraphale pulled on the chains trying to break free but found he couldn't. Crowley just glanced away looking hopeless. "Crowley, please, that man will-"

"I know," Crowley cut him off. "Never cared for them myself." Aziraphale was unsure if the demon was lying about his wings or not. "Just a reminder I fell. That's all they are really, just an ugly thing to remind us of what we are."

"I never found them ugly. I think they are quite beautiful really," Aziraphale admitted. Crowley looked taken aback by the comment. He stumbled out some words, his cheeks oddly pink. Aziraphale wondered why that was. 

Before the two could talk more the man from the bookshop with the knives walked in. He threw open the door startling the angle and the demon. He slammed the door behind him staring down the two. "This is a sight, an angel and a demon," he said, his accent clearly American. 

"Please let us go," Aziraphale a little too politely. "You are horribly confused. I'm a bookshop owner. There is no such things as angels or demons," he gave a nervous laugh glancing over at Crowley who was staring dangers into the American. 

The hunter just laughed looking to Crowley. "Please, I know all about your kind. My family has been hunting you down for years, passing down what they know about trapping and tracking, although," he turned towards Aziraphale, "this is the first time I've found an angel. I bet you have the most beautiful wings." 

"Don't," Crowley warned tugging on his own chains as the hunter stepped closer to the angel. 

The hunter ignored him kneeling down to be face to face with Aziraphale. "What do you say, angel? Give us a show? Let me see those wings."

Aziraphale looked panicked. He backed away from hunter as far as the chains would let him, which granted wasn't very far. His eyes were wide, his breath coming out choppy and he kept shooting fearful glances at Crowley and at the large hunting knives the American had. "I'd rather not," Aziraphale voice was high pitched.  

The hunter pulled out one of his knives. It was large, meant to cut into flesh and meat. Aziraphale stared at it in fear, hearing Crowley yell out and the rattle of him fighting against the chains. "Come on. I know demons can control when they show their wings and what not, sure your kind can too. Just let em' out. I'm sure it won't hurt." He waved the knife in front of Aziraphale.

"You piece of shit! He's an angel, have you no shame?" Crowley yelled at the hunter getting his attention. He stood up to face Crowley now. The demon glared right back at him, holding his resolve. 

"I'm a collector, simple as that. And I would love more than anything to have a pair of angel wings on display. I'm already going to hell for the things I've done. Killing an angel won't change what's already going to happen. Can't be worse than damned am I right?" He laughed to himself. 

"If I ever get my hands on you, you'll find out just how worse it can be," Crowley threatened. 

The hunter just shook his head. He took of Crowley sunglasses throwing them to the ground. "I already got a pair of demon wings, could always use some eyes." he grabbed Crowley chin roughly forcing his head up. With his other hand he raised the knife to Crowley face just below his eye.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale yelled out. "Stop please!"

The hunter did stop. He took a step back with a raised eyebrow and pensive look on his face. He looked at Aziraphale and then back to Crowley. "Now, I'm a bit confused. What is the exact relationship here? I find a demon sitting in a bookshop with an angel? I thought you two are suppose to be natural enemies." 

"That's none of your business," Crowley snapped back.

The hunter clicked with his mouth smiling. "Huh," was he said looking between the angel and the demon. Aziraphale had no idea what was going on, but Crowley seemed too for he was getting more upset by the second. "Be right back," the hunter said then leaned in closer to Crowley and whispered. "Looks like I'm getting what I want after all." 

Crowley yelled after him but the hunter shut the door, leaving them alone again. "Crowley? Crowley what did he say? Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked seeing a little demonic blood dripping down from a small cut under his eye. 

"Don't worry about me, angel." Crowley said back not looking at Aziraphale. 

"But Crowley…,"

"Don't worry about me, okay?" Crowley raised his voice. 

The hunter re entered the room holding an old looking bowl, possibly Greek in origin, and a small just as old book. Crowley glared at him and Aziraphale once again tried to back away feeling horribly afraid. He wished he had Crowley's resolve. Aziraphale knew they were at this man's mercy and it was terrifying, no matter how brave of a face he puts on.

"Let's try again, okay?" He turned to Aziraphale. "Show me your wings." He ordered in a dark voice. 

Aziraphale gathered his courage. Imagine he was facing Satan again. "No. I will not. And frankly you are an insane person."

Crowley would have smiled at Aziraphale attempt at an insult and his courage, but he couldn't in the situation. The hunter just nodded. He opened the book and placed in on the small shelf in the cell. "Very well. Let's try something else then." The hunter dipped his hands into the bowl. Both the angel and the demon watched holding their breaths. He lifted his out of the bowl sitting it was now dripping wet. He flicked his fingers at Crowley, a few droplets of water getting on him. 

The demon screamed. It was a horrible noise, unlike anything Aziraphale had ever heard. Crowley's whole body shook violently as small smoke came from a few spots on his pants and abdominal area. The screams were horrible, ear piercing screams, that brought tears to Aziraphale. Crowley's head dropped a little once he was done screaming replaced with heavy pants and pains breaths. The hunter put his hand in the holy water he had in the bowl again.

"No! Wait don't!" Aziraphale yelled, but the hunter flicked more holy water at Crowley. He screamed again, just as much agony as the last time. "Please, don't do this," Aziraphale began to beg. 

"I'm getting rid of a demon, you should be thanking me," The hunter got closer to Crowley. The demon looked pale, his eyes a little hazy from the pain. "In fact I'll send him back to hell for you right now," The hunter looked over at the book he had placed on the shelf. 

"Wait, you can't." Aziraphale panicked. 

The hunter said nothing. He dipped his pointer finger in the holy water and then pressed it into Crowley, still wet. Crowley began to scream again. The hunter then started to read from the book. Crowley continued screaming and screaming until his voice was raw. The demon looked as if he was having a  seizure getting worse with each word the hunter said. 

"Stop. Please stop," Aziraphale begged, his heart breaking hearing and seeing Crowley in so much pain. "Please," his voice cracked as Crolwy screamed out again, an animalistic, painful noise. "Don't hurt him. Please." The hunter did not stop resisting the words from the book louder than before. He dripped more holy water on the demon. "I'll do it! Just stop!" 

The hunter stepped back releasing Crowley who sank down, only held up by the chains at his wrists. His head was down and his eyes were closed. He was breathing, short shallow, but clearly painful breaths. The hunter turned to Aziraphale still holding the bowl on holy water but no longer reading the exorcism. "I'll do what you want just don't hurt him, please." 

"Well, I'm waiting," the hunter said. 

 Aziraphale looked over to Crowley. The angel could not bear seeing him in pain, hearing his screams, it was worse than anything the American could do. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself, knowing what he was going to do, what he was going to lose. 

"Aziraphale...no…," Crowley said so softly sounding exhausted. He was breathing a little heavier now but still did not have the energy to lift his head.   

"It's going to be alright, Crowley," Aziraphale said and gave the best smile he could in this situation. He took a deep breath and showed his bright white wings. The hunter beamed seeing them. Aziraphale closed his eyes feeling pain in his chest he could not place. It was half fear, half guilt, but a little bit of relief that maybe now Crowley would be safe.

"Beautiful," the hunter said. He set down the bowl of holy water on the ground and knelt down next to Aziraphale. "They are incredible." The hunter reached out and touched the wing. Aziraphale cringed. His wings were very sensitive, and he never let anyone touch them for his 6000 plus years on Earth. "Truly awe inspiring," the hunter said and ram his fingers through the feathers. Aziraphale gasped out and then bit down on his lower lip. He tried to hold back, but the hunter reached out and touched the other wing, close to his back, and Aziraphale yelled out a short gasp of pain and surprise. 

"Don't...touch him," he heard Crowley whisper out.  

The hunter just smiled, and then clasped a cuff around one of the wings making Aziraphale yell out and drop to the ground. He never felt anything like this. A pressure that pierced his whole body. He felt like he could not breathe or move. His whole body focused on the metal around his wing, the intense pressure and dull pain it brought. "Be right back, I'm gonna need a bigger knife," the hunter said, picked up the bowl of holy water and left the room. 

"Aziraphale?" the angel could hear Crowley call out. He tried to sit up but shifting slightly caused a spike of pain to shoot up his whole wing. He gasped out in pain feeling tears in his eyes. He had never felt pain like this before. Yet, Crowley was safe. Crowley wasn't in pain. He tried to focus on that. It gave some relief. 

 "I'm alright," Aziraphale forced himself to say.

"We need to get you out of here," Crolwey said. He still sounded exhausted, but had a new determination in his voice. Aziraphale just shook his head. The demon glanced around the room, ignoring how it made him a little dizzy. He saw the hunter had left the book open on the shelf. "Aziraphale...Aziraphale listen I have a way out of here."

The angel looked up. The demon took a long breath and then nodded to himself. He looked afraid. "You're gonna have to exorcise me." 

"What!?" Aziraphale nearly shot up, but the clasp around his wind, pushing into his sensitive wing kept him down. "Are you insane Crowley? That will spend you back to Hell," the angel shook his head. "You know what they will do to you down there. I can't Crowley."

"You have too," Crowley hissed. "I can miracle you out of here the second I get there, before Beelzebub and the rest get me. The wards only works for things in this room. I can save you." 

"But they will destroy you if you go back," Aziraphale shook his head.

"But you'll be safe."

 Aziraphale looked up at the demon. "Crowley…," he said softly.

"Angel you have too. That man is going to kill you. I can't watch that. I can't," the demon raised his voice and Aziraphale saw such emotion in his yellow eyes. "Please, Aziraphale let me do this for you, let me save you. I don't care what happens to me as long as you're safe." Aziraphale stared at Crowley for a long time. "Please," the demon said.

"Okay...okay," Aziraphale said in a soft sad voice. He shifted to get a better view of the book, gasping out ni pain. He looked at Crowley one last time who nodded to him. Aziraphale felt like hat hunter was stabbing him in the chest with one of his knives. He started to read. 

Crowley screamed out at the words. He was shaking again and the angle almost stopped reading but Crowley urged him to continue. Tears rolling down his face Aziraphale finished the exorcism. Crowley screamed out and disappeared in a puff of smoke. The angel was alone. In a suddenly very quiet and lonely room. He closed his eyes, them stinging from the tears. Not even the clasps on his wings could compare to the pain in his chest. 

Suddenly the chains were gone. Aziraphale sighed in relief. He blinked and suddenly he was standing outside of a small house. The house burst into flames. Aziraphale could hear the panic screams of the hunter trapped inside. Aziraphale watched the smoke filled the night sky. He wanted there until the fireman showed up. He waited there until the fireman dragged the hunters burnt body out. He waited there until the fire was gone and the fireman left. He wanted there until the sun rose. Crowley never came. 

Aziraphale hung his head. "Thank you Crowley," he said softly and then left. 

The next week was hard. Everyday the bookshop door open he ran to it, hoping, beyond hope, it was Crowley. It never way. He closed the bookshop the week after that. He would call Crowley's flat once in a while. Never leave a message, but just to see if he would pick up or hear his voice on the answering machine again. 

Fifty two days passed. The longest fifity two day in the over 6000 years he had been on the Earth. Aziraphale half halfheartedly drank his coco sitting in his bookshop. He hadn't been reading as much as he use too. There was a knock on the door. Aziraphale, unsure what time it was glanced out the window, seeing it was dark and pouring rain. There was another knock.

"We are closed," he called out. There was another knock. Aziraphale set down his drink. He did not want to deal with a customer right now. "I said we are closed." Aziraphale opened the door with a raised voice. 

"Hey angel."

Aziraphale couldn't breath. Crowley was standing at his door, dripping wet and looking worse for wear. His clothes were ripped and torn. He had large bags under his eyes and looked terribly thin. His hair was a mess and his skin looked unhealthy gray with cuts and bruises. 

"Crowley," Aziraphale felt like he was crying. He reached out touching the demon's sleeve to prove he wasn't just imagining it. "You're here?"

"Yeah," his voice sounded a little weak, but the demon still smile. "Yeah, I made it back." 

Not caring about sides or fear or duty Aziraphale threw his arms around Crowley pulling him in close. He squeezed the demon tight feeling that Crowley was trembling slightly. Aziraphale tucked his head into his shoulder. Nothing else in all of heaven or hell mattering now. 

Crowley reached his arms around the angel. He gripped the back of his clothes holding onto him for dear life. "I made it back. I made it back to you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and all the kudos and comments. It's so nice! 
> 
> One more chapter. I'm going on vacation (again) in a few weeks but hopefully I will have the last chapter up by then.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having escaped Hell the demon and angel fall into a comfortable routine, but Heaven has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter everybody! thanks for reading.

**Three years after the End of the World...that didn't happen**

Crowley spent nearly all of his time at the bookshop. Most nights he slept on the couch or half read books he found. Aziraphale never pressed Crowley about what happened. He never asked how Crowley escaped Hell or what happened after he was exorcises and it was clear Crowley did not want to talk about it. The demon hardly talked right after it happened. He flinched a few times when Aziraphale reached out for him. It broke the angel's heart. Aziraphale sworn then and there he would never let anything like that happen to Crowley again. He would make sure Hell would never get their hands on the demon again.

Months after Crowley had been exorcised back to Hell and returned, Aziraphale sat at his desk happily reading a new book. "You hungry angel?" Crowley's voice called out. 

"I'm alright," Aziraphale called back. He was enjoying this story. A diary of a man in World War One. He was insightful and wrote beautifully. 

"Alright, I'll bring you back something though," Crowley called out. It brought a smile to the angel's face. He enjoyed Crowley's constant company. The way they have fallen into a comfortable and calm life following what was suppose to be the end of the world. 

"That would be lovely, thank you," the angel said and he heard Crowley leave the bookshop. 

Crowley crossed the street and got onto the bus. It had been raining lately and he was afraid the Bentley would get mud on it. He took the bus to the other side of the city stopping at small donut shop he knew Aziraphale liked best. Getting him food was the least Crowley could do. He spent nearly every day and night at the bookshop. He didn't want to go back to his flat. He didn't want to be away from Aziraphale not after what happened in Hell. Crowley pushed those thoughts aside feeling a shiver down his spine. 

He waited in the long line, eventually tapping his foot as the minutes rolled by. The shop had the best donuts in London, possibly all of the UK, it was always busy. Yet, Crowley got what he wanted, three donuts in a little white paper bag. He left the shop just as it started to rain lightly. 

Crowley made his way over to a coffee shop, a nasty habit he had gotten into lately. Unlike humans, coffee seemed to calm him down, help relax him. He sipped on his black coffee heading back to the bus stop. A woman screamed out as her boyfriend jumped out from an alleyway to surprise her. The scream made Crowley drops his coffee and donuts. 

All he heard was screams, the screams of the damned, the screams from his own lips. He was suddenly back in Hell. He couldn't breath, his whole body burning. There was so much pain as they ripped into his flesh. He screamed until he could not scream anymore. 

Crowley shook violently trying to push the memories away. He escaped. He was safe. He was with Aziraphale. 

Cursing the demon saw the bag of food was soaked and his coffee was spilled. He returned to the shop and the line. 

One long line and long bus ride later Crowley came back to the bookshop. Aziraphale had changed the signs to 'Closed' and drew all the blinds. Crowley smiled to himself guessing someone had interrupted his new book. He held onto the donuts and went inside, the bell ringing out. 

"Angel, I got some-" Crowley gasped loudly seeing Gabriel, Micheal and few other angels standing in the center of the bookshop. He scowled at them, dropping the food and taking a slight defensive stance. "What you doing here? Where's Aziraphale?" He glanced around not seeing the angel. The other angels said nothing. "Where is he? Aziraphale!" Crowley yelled out, but there was no answer.

"Enough of this," one angel, short wearing gold, said. 

"No wait, wait," Gabriel held out his hand. "This is good. We can use this. A little test?" He looked over to Micheal. Gabriel almost looked giddy when Micheal nodded. 

"What have you done with Aziraphale?" Crowley ignored them focusing on finding his friend. 

"You'll find out," another angel said. Both Micheal and Gabriel, two of the most powerful angels in heaven, waved their hands and suddenly Crolwey became very dizzy. His vision started to fade, his body going numb. He leaned on a table, toppling over some books. He felt darkness pulling him under. He weakly called out for his angel again before everything went black and he fell to the ground. 

Crowley slowly woke up. He blinked feeling a little light headed, but was instantly on guard when he remembered what happened. He nervously tried to move realizing he was tied to a chair still in the book shop. He growled pulling on the restraints, but couldn't move. He heard the screams again. He closed his eyes taking deep breaths. He wasn't in Hell. He had to breath. 

Crowley opened his eyes again glaring at Gabriel. "What is this, huh? Where is-" Crowley stopped mid sentence seeing Aziraphale standing next to Micheal. "Aziraphale!" Crowley called out, relieved and happy smile crossing his face. Yet, the angel didn't move. Aziraphale just stared straight forward, unblinking, arms at his side as stiff as a board. Crowley called out his name again, but still nothing. He turned to the other angels. "What did you do to him!?" 

"Angels are meant to serve God. To aid in the Great Plan," Gabriel started. "Aziraphale, here, interfered with that plan. We had to remind him of an angels place, of our roll in everything. Free will, such a pesky thing," Gabriel smiled. "So we took it away."

"You what!? You...you can't!"

"We did," Gabriel said smugly. 

"Hit the reset button so to speak," the shorter angel in gold smiled.

Crowley tugged harder on the ropes. He looked to Aziraphale who just kept staring in front of him. The angel looked empty, blank. There was no emotion to his eyes, to his face. "Aziraphale! Aziraphale, look at me! Say something! Aziraphale, please."

Gabriel shook his head letting out a small laugh. "Aziraphale, do you have anything you'd like to say to this fowl demon?"

"No, demons are beneath us," Aziraphale's voice was void of all emotions.

Crowley felt his insides breaking. He shook his head. "No...Aziraphale, no. Please, snap out of it! It's me! Aziraphale!" Crowley pleaded, but the angel did not react. He just kept staring, unmoving, looking like a zombie. 

The other angels smiled and chuckled looking amused. Micheal said nothing, but tilted their head watching Crowley carefully. Gabriel clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's do this then." He reached into his robin blue suit and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded looking pleased. He handed it to Aziraphale. "You know what to do, read it three times, no stopping."

"Yes," Aziraphale held onto the paper with both hands. He walked over so he was in front of Crowley. Reading the paper Aziraphale started to speak in  Aramaic within a few words Crowley knew what it was: an exorcism. He felt his blood grow cold and pit in his stomach. 

"I will not take part in this," Micheal suddenly said turned on their heels and left. The other angels watched Micheal go, a bit confused, but then turned back to the show. 

Aziraphale kept reading, not losing a beat. He had no emotions on his face, like a machine reading out instructions. Crowley gasped out in pain feeling himself being pulled back to Hell. He heard the screams again, felt the heat. He couldn't go back. 

"Aziraphale!" He yelled out with everything he had. "Snap out of it! I barely made it back last time. I won't again! You have to fight it! Aziraphale whatever they did to you fight it!" Crowley felt a part of him start to slip away. He didn't have much time, he could feel it. He looked back up to Aziraphale still reading like nothing was happening. He thought about how distraught the angel was when he exorcism him the last time. The way he held him so tightly the night he returned. Crowley felt a new wave of pain, but focused on Aziraphale. His eyes looked so empty, Crowley longed to see them when the angel was happy, the way his eyes would sparkle when he laughed. 

"Please, angel! Snap out of it! I know you can! You choose your own side. We made our own side! Please, don't let them control you! Aziraphale!" Crowley yelled out and then screamed, the pain started to grow intense. He knew the exorcism was nearly complete. He didn't have time. He would go back to Hell and this time they would not bother with torture, they would kill him. Crowley closed his eyes, feeling himself being pulled away. He only had moments now. 

"Aziraphale...Aziraphale," Crowley said softly between painful pants. "I...I...," he tried to think of the words. "This might be the last chance I get to say it," He took a deep breath. "Aziraphale, I love you." 

The bookshop fell quiet. Crowley stared at his angel. He meant it, more than anything he had ever said in the past. He meant it. He loved Aziraphale. Demons were not meant to love, but he did, with his whole being. 

Gabriel laughed. The other angels all laughed. They laughed and mocked, jeering Crowley's confession. Crowley glared at them. 

Gabriel continued to laugh. "Love? You love...an angel?" He laughed even harder throwing his whole back into it. "That is a riot. A demon...a demon thinks he's in love." Gabriel and the others let out another good laugh. "Demons don't love. I'm sure once you're in Hell they will make sure to remind you of that. Get on with it, Aziraphale." Gabriel ordered.

Crowley glared daggers into the archangel. He felt his chest boil with anger for laughing at his love for Aziraphale. It was the one true, pure, feeling Crowley had. It wasn't to be mocked. His love for Aziraphale was the one thing the demon felt that was real...that was good. 

Glaring at Gabriel the demon saw him blink in confusion. The other angels all looked at each other. Crowley didn't know what was going on. Then he realized the room was silent. There wasn't a single sound. Crowley turned his attention back to Aziraphale. He had stopped reading. He had the moment Crowley had told him he loved him. He had lowered the paper and was staring at the demon with wide eyes.

"Aziraphale, continue with the exorcism!" Gabriel ordered. 

Crowley felt like he could cry. "Aziraphale," he said so softly. 

"Do not disobey! Exorcism this demon!" Gabriel yelled. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale whispered and Crowley nodded a new hope sparking inside him. "Crowley," he said again. "Crowley I...I love you too." 

The demon felt his heart for the first time since the fall. He felt happy tears roll down his cheeks. 

"What!?" the other angels gasped. 

Aziraphale blinked a few times, his posture shifting and brightness coming back to his face and eyes. He looked at Crowley and smiled, then looked over to the angels. "You heard me," he barked at them. Crowley could not be more proud, feeling more tears. A demon wasn't supposed to cry either, but here he was. "And I will not hurt him," Aziraphale ripped the paper apart. 

"How dare you," one of the angels, Crowley thinks named Uriel snapped.

"No how dare you!"  Aziraphale snapped right back making Crowley laugh. "You cannot make me hurt Crowley. I'm...I'm not on your side anymore. I'm on his!" 

"Traitor!" One angel yelled. 

"Now, get out of my bookshop!" Aziraphale puffed out his chest. "And leave Crowley and I alone!" he added making his hands into fists as though he would fight. 

"We won't forget this," Gabriel said glaring at them both. In a flash of bright light the angels were gone, leaving just Aziraphale and Crowley. 

The moment they were gone Aziraphale went over the Crowley kneeling down in front of him and untying the ropes muttering out a million apologies. He freed the demon apologizing once again and asking if he was okay. 

"Did you mean it?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale blinked. His hands were still on Crowley arms having helped him up from the chair. "Mean what?" 

"That you…?"

"Yes. Did you?"

"Yes." 

The two stood staring at each for the longest time. They both smiled. Tentatively Crowley reached out, and Aziraphale did they same. They entwined their fingers, holding hands for the first time. They smiled once more and stayed that way for a very long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for all the support. I had so much fun writing these two.


End file.
